


Reflection

by Fyre



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 11:02:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6236122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyre/pseuds/Fyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leia still remembered darkened cells, probe droids, heavy, metal hands on her shoulders as she was forced to watch Alderaan burn. She remembered Hoth. She remembered Cloud City. She remembered waking, gasping, haunted by the hiss of his mask in the night.<br/>The thought that he could appear to them even after death had terrified her then.<br/>Now, looking at the man on the bridge, she knew exactly who she was seeing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> I've been a SW nerd a long time now. I wrote my first SW fic 20 years ago, but the muse had been dormant a good long while. Then TFA happened, and then I was encouraged to watch Star Wars: The Clone Wars because Characterisation. And then, after mainlining all the series in less than three weeks, this fic happened. (Incidentally, watched Clone Wars and Rebels. They are both awesome)

Leia knew him the first time she saw him.

The celebration of the Battle of Endor lasted days. Some part of her knew they should return to Coruscant and make the Republic official, but it had been so long since they could just breathe that when Luke suggested they delay for a few days, she had accepted.

She didn’t know what woke her in the middle of the night. The forest was never silent, but this time, it felt different. She lay on the rush-filled bed, gazing up at the shadowy ceiling of the Ewok hut, but she’d lain awake too many times in the night to know she wouldn’t be able to get to sleep again.

As quietly as she could, she rose from the small bed, stepping over Chewie’s legs and around Han and the cluster of cubs curled up beside him. It brought a smile to her face. As much as he tried to play it tough, he couldn’t help himself. 

The night air was cooler, and she shivered as she stepped down onto the platform that led to the bridges between the trees.

That was when she saw him.

At first she thought it was just a trick of the light, but when she brushed a hand over her eyes and looked again, he was still there.

He was a young man, tall, wearing robes. More importantly, he was transparent.

She remained where she was, her heart pounding.

Luke had described seeing the shades of Jedi before. He had, he said, even seen their father without the scars and breathing apparatus and armour. He looked kind, Luke said. A kind old man who had saved his life.

Luke could forgive him.

Leia wasn’t so sure.

She still remembered darkened cells, probe droids, heavy, metal hands on her shoulders as she was forced to watch Alderaan burn. She remembered Hoth. She remembered Cloud City. She remembered waking, gasping, haunted by the hiss of his mask in the night.

The thought that he could appear to them even after death had terrified her then.

Now, looking at the man on the bridge, she knew exactly who she was seeing. She didn’t know why he looked young, but she knew who he was.

He was leaning on the rail where Luke had spoken to her before he went to turn himself in to the Emperor, as if he somehow knew that place was where she had learned who she - and who he - really was. 

She knew it was why she had woken up.

A disturbance in the Force.

The Force is strong in my family. My father has it. I have it. My sister has it.

She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

As if he felt her eyes on him, he straightened up and turned to look at her.

Luke’s eyes, she thought numbly. He had Luke’s eyes.

On legs that felt like they were weighted with lead, she walked down onto the bridge. She could tell him to go. To leave her alone and never come back. She could curse his name. She could say all the things she had never had the chance to say to the man who had destroyed so many people she knew and loved.

He was tall too, but not as tall as he had been in his armour, and she could see the way his hands were clenching and unclenching by his sides. 

He was as afraid as she was.

 _Good_.

She raised her chin, straightened her back, and carried herself with every bit of the poise her father and mother had taught her as she walked towards him. She saw his expression change. He smiled, but it was the saddest smile she had ever seen.

The bridge swayed gently beneath them, and she stopped three paces from him.

His fingers were curled tightly to his palms now, and he looked anywhere but her face: the bridge at their feet, the forest beyond them, the small huts and fires visible between the trees.

There was so much that needed to be said.

She wanted to be angry.

She wanted to be, but she was tired of anger, tired of fighting for every step, every moment, every breath she took.

“Thank you,” she finally said.

His eyes - Luke’s eyes - snapped back to her face, and he stared at her as if he couldn’t understand what she was saying. “What?”

“Luke.” It was as simple as that. “You saved him.”

The ghost - shade - whatever he was - looked at her, dazed. “Yes.”

“Yes,” she echoed. 

They stared at one another for a moment longer, then she turned and walked back up the bridge. Her hands were shaking so much that she had to wrap them together, and she felt like she was going to be sick.

She didn’t look back to see if he was still there.

She went back to the hut, and curled between Chewbacca and Han. In the quiet dark, she buried her face in the blanket and wept.

 

______________________________________________

 

The next time she saw him, she wasn’t alone.

Crowds had gathered to witness the opening of the first official session of the new Republic in the old Senate hall on Coruscant. It wasn’t as magnificent as it used to be. The role of Senator had been little more than a token title under the Emperor’s rule, and he hadn’t really cared to make it welcoming or comfortable for them by the time Leia set foot there.

Still, several weeks of hard work and an army of droids had done a good job.

It would never be exactly as it was before, but when she walked out into one of the booths that overlooked the hall, her heart skipped a beat.

Many of those booths were occupied when she saw the face of Anakin Skywalker. She was on a hovering platform in the middle of the hall, making an inauguration speech before handing over to Mon Mothma.

Her words caught in her throat when she saw him standing there.

He was leaning against the open doorway of one of the booths, his arms loosely folded, looking up at her. She felt her hands tremble against the edge of the platform, and forced her eyes up. There were plenty of people and faces to hold her attention.

Still, it came as a relief when she made it back to the room she was using. No one had commented on the fact that she had immediately claimed the apartments once reserved for the Senator and diplomatic parties from Alderaan.

It wasn’t empty.

The door hissed closed behind her, and she stood - rigid - staring at the man, who was standing at the broad window.

He had his back to her, his head bowed.

Leia tried to gather herself, to tell him to get out, but the words wouldn’t come.

“She would be so proud of you.” His voice was quiet, sad.

Leia swallowed hard, then darted her tongue along her lips. “She?”

She could see him draw a breath he no longer needed, and straighten up. Like a soldier about to go into battle, she thought, as he turned around to face her. His eyes roved her face, and that achingly sad smile crossed his features again. “Your mother.”

It felt as if a giant hand had closed around her ribs and was squeezing the breath out of her, a short, strangled gasp escaping. Her mother. Yes. Of course. Where there was a father, there would be a mother.

“Oh?” She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know if she could have said anything, even if she had the words. Her world felt like it was spinning, but she was not about to show weakness, not in front of him, not now, not ever.

He lowered his eyes. “She was a Senator too.”

Leia forced her legs to carry her across the room. They were trembling under her, but she held herself upright until she reached one of the chairs and slowly sat down. Control. She had learned it at her mother’s - her other mother’s - side.

A Senator.

Her mother had been a Senator.

Her parents had never lied to her that she had been adopted, but they had told her so little of her mother, only that she was good, brave, and kind, the truths that any small child would cling to. They had also told her that her father was a good and brave warrior. A little kindness to protect a child who would have been a pawn.

She folded her hands in her lap to keep them from shaking, and raised her eyes to the man who Bail Organa must have known: the good and brave warrior.

Anakin Skywalker was watching her cautiously from his place by the window. “You didn’t know?”

Leia met his eyes, squeezing her hands so tightly together that it hurt. “My parents never told me who my birth parents were. They thought it would put me in danger.”

If she had slapped him, he wouldn’t have recoiled as much.

“Yes.” He retreated a step, grief and shame twisting his face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come.” He bowed stiffly, his hands clenched by his sides.

He was going to leave, she thought with relief, but then… then if he left, the only person who had known her mother would be gone. He had come to tell her mother would be proud of her, and that had to mean something.

She rose quickly before he could leave. “Wait!”

The wary hope in his face was heartbreaking. “Yes?”

It felt like she was teetering on the edge of an abyss, and if she took another step, she didn’t know if she would fall or find steady footing. She tried to recall what her mother would have done. Diplomacy. Tact. Speak to the people you must speak to, to find out what you need to - wish to - know.

She unfolded her hands and motioned to one of the vacant seats. “Please,” she said, trying to keep her voice as steady as she could. “Sit.”

Anakin moved closer like a nervous skerling who had been hit one too many times. It was strange - dizzying - to realise that the man who was Darth Vader was terrified of her. He sat carefully on the seat, straight-backed and rigid.

She remained standing. It was only an illusion of power, she knew, but it felt better than sitting down with him as if they were on an even footing, as if they could be friends. She folded her hands before her again.

“My mother,” she said quietly, “who was she?”

“Padmé Amidala.” He murmured the name like a prayer, his head bowed. His hands were closed over his knees, and if he had been flesh and blood, his knuckles would have been white. “She was a Queen of Naboo when we met. She was the bravest and most determined woman I ever met.” He looked up at Leia, and his eyes were bright with tears he couldn’t shed. “You look…” His voice broke. “You don’t look anything like me. You’re all her.”

Leia’s throat felt tight and she took a shaking breath. “Thank you.”

When he smiled this time, it wasn’t wholly sad.

 

________________________________________

 

She told Luke.

How could she keep it from him?

She confessed she'd spoken to their father twice, and that she'd learned their mother's name. He didn't seem surprised. In turn, she wasn't surprised. She didn't know if he'd sensed something of the kind, or if he had maybe expected it after he told her of seeing their father's ghost. They could both touch the Force, after all.

"We should look for her in the archives," he said. 

She wasn’t surprised that he wanted to find her. It wasn’t as if she didn’t want to look, but she had been blessed to have both mother and father. He’d had neither. An aunt and uncle who loved him, but made it clear that he was the child of someone else. She couldn’t begrudge him the need to know where he - they - came from.

Almost at once, they hit the same stumbling block that had halted Luke's search for the Jedi records: a strategic campaign of redaction and deletion by the Emperor and his allies had reduced the Jedi to mythological figures, and any of the early rebels to nameless, faceless terrorists. 

Day after day, they found gaps in the galactic histories where significant names and places had been excised. Their mother's name was nowhere to be found, not even in the records from her home planet of Naboo. 

Leia was surprised how much it disappointed her.

Luke had the responsibility for reawakening an ancient order, seeking out new Jedi, training them in a history he had no access to. He had so much more to do than search for a face for the mother they had never known. 

Still, he squeezed her hand. "We'll keep looking," he said.

She tried to smile, but she knew without question that the Emperor would have made sure that anyone with connections to Anakin Skywalker would have been wiped from every record on the Imperial logs. Darth Vader's reputation had been a formidable one. If anyone had known then that he had once only been human with a wife, with children, they might have believed him weak. 

She continued to search, between committees and hearings and delegations, but it was disheartening to see the fractured history left by the Emperor's rule. 

It was becoming clear that only someone who had been there at the beginning could give her the answers she needed and could tell her if she was trying in vain to catch a storm cloud. 

As much as she didn't want to admit it, there was only one person who could help.

She didn't approach Luke about it. It was something she could do for him. He had enough to do, and she wasn't about to burden him with it.

It took her several days to steel herself to do what had to be done. She did her duties, made her excuses and retreated to the apartment she'd taken. It overlooked the Senate building, a constant reminder every day of everything they had worked for and everything that still had to be done.

It was quiet.

She lit several candles instead of the brighter lights. It felt more appropriate.

Luke had tried to teach her Jedi meditation, to centre herself and align herself to the Force. She'd felt it, and it had brought back memories of the undercurrents in the seas where she had played on Alderaan. Invisible, powerful, both natural and overwhelming at the same time. She had realised at once how easy it would be to drown in it, as their father had. 

Leia sat down cross-legged on the floor and rested her hands in her lap, closing her eyes. Being afraid would help no one. She wanted and needed answers. If he came, he came. If not, she would continue to look, no matter how long it took. 

Slowly, she evened her breathing out. In. Hold. Exhale. In. Hold. Exhale.

It was calming.

She could feel the brush of the Force around her. A memory of standing by the water's edge, waves lapping at her bare feet. Her father - Bail Organa - holding her hand. Both of them laughing. A planet blown apart before her eyes. 

She gasped explosively at the sharp stab of grief.

At once, she lost her grip.

"No," she whispered under her breath. "You can do this."

In. Hold. Out.

In.

Hold. 

Out.

Over and over. 

The Force settled around her like a mantle.

Tentatively, she tried to reach out. She concentrated on the man she needed to see, even thought on his name.

It felt as if a ripple ran through the air, and she opened her eyes.

Anakin Skywalker was seated facing her, mirroring her pose. A cautious smile touched his lips. "Leia."

She flinched. It was the first time he had said her name, and he looked down at his hands. His expression had tensed, wary, ashamed. He had to know why it made her recoil. A name was personal. To use someone's name suggested a connection, and even though he looked and sounded different, she still remembered him mockingly calling her "your Highness".

She wrapped one hand around the other. "I need-" She took a shaking breath, trying to regain the calmness she had felt only moments earlier. Distance. She needed the distance. Impersonal. Not her father. Simply a source. She didn't take her eyes off him as she evened out her breathing again. "You were there when the Empire was formed."

"Yes."

She nodded. "The archives are in pieces. Sections have been removed completely." This was simpler. Easier. Focus on the task, not on their tenuous bond. "Do you know if they were stored somewhere, or if the Emperor had them destroyed?"

Those painfully familiar eyes rose to look at her and she could see the regret in his expression. "If it could have been used against him, he would have destroyed it." His hands were curling into a tight knot. "He didn't... appreciate weaknesses."

Her stomach clenched and she looked away from him quickly, trying to conceal the emotion that crossed her face. "As I expected."

He was silent for a moment, then quietly asked, "What do you need?"

Need.

Her own choice of words.

She couldn't bring herself to look at him, her eyes stinging. "You gave me her name." Her voice shook more than she wanted it to. "That's all I - we - have. He destroyed what remained, any mention, any history."

Shade or not, she heard the sharp intake of breath. "All of it?"

She looked back at him. He looked as stricken as she felt, and she could only nod.

His hands balled into fists, clenching tighter, lines of grief and anger furrowing his face. "She deserved so much better." His words were clipped. "I'm sorry."

Leia looked down at her own hands. It was too much to hope that there would be something, some memory, some image. “You didn’t-” She faltered, unable to look at him. It was jarring to think of the Emperor’s weapon carrying a keepsake of the woman he had lost. 

“I couldn’t bear to look at her face.” It was said so matter-of-factly that she looked at him in shock. He was gazing down at his open hands. “It was my fault she died.” He splayed the fingers of one hand on the palm of the other. “She tried to save me.” He shook his head. “I was weak. I was afraid and I was angry and I was weak.” He raised his eyes to Leia’s. “I didn’t listen, I lashed out, and she died.”

Leia felt ill. “You killed her?”

He bowed his head. “I don’t know,” he confessed in a whisper. “She was still alive when I left her. I know she was. I could feel it. I would never have- I don’t know-” He covered his face with his hand, shuddering. “He told me I did it, but I don’t know.”

Even without the Force, she knew she would have recognised the grief and pain that was wracking him. With the Force, though, she could sense the truth of the matter. He didn’t know, and he wasn’t lying.

The knowledge was there, even if she couldn’t say how she knew.

“You didn’t kill her,” she said softly. 

Her father lowered his hand to stare at her. 

“You said yourself: he didn’t like weaknesses. She was yours, wasn’t she?”

He nodded. “Yes,” he whispered, shock etched on his face. “He told me…”

Leia recalled the few times she had crossed paths with the Emperor in the Senate. Even at a distance, he had made her skin crawl, and when he looked at her, it always felt as if he was examining her like a subject in a laboratory, picking her apart to see what use he could have for her. She’d left every encounter feeling sullied.

It seemed he had been doing the same thing for a very long time.

“He lied,” she said, knowing it was the only explanation. He wasn’t the kind of man who would have allowed divided loyalties. "He wanted you to believe it. He wanted you to suffer for caring about her."

Anakin’s shoulders slumped and his head rocked forward. “I didn’t kill her,” he said in a whisper. “I didn’t kill her.”

Leia watched him. 

She wanted to hate him for what he had become. It would have been simpler to be able to hate him, but with the Force flowing through her, she could feel what Luke must have felt when he said there was still good in Vader. She could feel it now, pulsing like a heartbeat against her senses, his relief and, even more intensely, his love.

It was too much all at once.

Her parents had trained her well-enough in etiquette to rise and excuse herself without stumbling. She crossed the floor and withdrew into her bedroom. The door slid closed behind her, and she sank down to sit back against it.

It didn’t help.

The Force was everywhere, she thought, knocking her head back against the door. She could feel his gratitude, something she had never expected. It was enough to make her press her eyes closed, and even as it faded, when she knew her father had slipped away, the echo of it lingered. 

 

_____________________________________________________

 

Luke knew.

He came to her in her rooms, and she didn't have to say anything. He just opened his arms and she leaned into him at once. There was something infinitely safe about him, as his calmness and quiet confidence washed over her like a soothing wave.

"You called to him," he murmured.

She nodded mutely against his shoulder.

"Did you get the answers you were looking for?"

She shook her head. 

With effort, she managed to gather herself, and straightened up. She let her hands linger on his arms, though. An anchor and point of stability for her. Like a child with a toy. It felt foolish, but when he shifted his arms and gently wrapped his fingers around her forearms too, it was better.

"I thought he might know where to find the records," she admitted. "I didn't want to bother you with it."

He looked at her with such compassion, it made her eyes prick with unwanted tears. "Leia, it's not bothering me. She was our mother. Believe me, I understand." He smiled and squeezed her arms. "I don't believe he managed to wipe her from the records entirely. We'll find her. I know we will."

Leia laughed unsteadily, blinking hard. "Is the Force telling you that?"

He laughed too, warmly. "No. It's us both being as stubborn as each other." 

She had to smile. "You're not wrong."

Luke guided her over to sit on one of the couches. "Anyway, it's not as if the Emperor could wipe every single droid in the galaxy's memories. Even with the Force, he couldn't do that." He grinned suddenly. "We'll get Artoo to search. He's got a way of finding information, especially if we tell him Threepio said he couldn't do it. We just get him to look for patterns in the blanks and see if we can't piece together something."

"He is too smart for his own good," she admitted with a wry smile as Luke put his arm around her shoulder. 

"And he brought me to you," he said. "If he can do that, he's going to have no problem with this."

It became a routine. When their work was done, one or both of them would sit down with Artoo and sift through the data - or lack of data - he had found. Every time, the droid cheeped forlornly, as if he had failed them because he couldn't provide what they wanted.

"It's okay, Artoo," Luke murmured, running a hand over his face. 

It was late, the moon rising high over Coruscant, but something felt different tonight. Leia hadn't dared to give the feeling voice. If she did, she could almost believe the feeling would vanish.

The latest files were from Mon Cala. They mentioned a civil war. Something about a failed Coronation, but it didn't make sense, because the later records showed that the King was incumbent, which meant the so-called failed coronation must have gone ahead. 

Leia tilted the screen in her hands.

This, she knew. This was relevant. Other files had been... interesting, but none of them had given her the feeling of rightness of this one. 

"She was there," she said with certainty.

"Leia?"

She looked over at her brother. "She was there. On Mon Cala." She frowned. It was strange to feel such absolute surety about an event so long ago. "I... know she was." Another feeling, this one even more familiar. "He was there too."

"He?" Luke met her eyes. "Oh."

It couldn't be a coincidence, this strange feeling, but there was only one to know for certain whether it was true. If she was right, then they would be able to identify other files much more easily. If she was wrong...

It wasn't worth thinking about.

Luke was watching her. "What do you want to do?"

"I need to know if I'm right," she said at once. Her hands were shaking. She gripped the screen tighter. "Call on him."

Artoo made an inquisitive sound.

"Our father," Luke explained, as he set aside the screen he was holding. He closed his eyes and folded his hands.

Artoo burbled.

"Yes, I do know what I'm doing," Luke said, smiling.

Leia felt the shift in the Force as their father appeared before them. He didn't look so young this time, but he didn't look like the older man Luke usually saw. He seemed to be somewhere in the middle.

"Father," Luke murmured, opening his eyes. 

Anakin bowed his head in greeting. "I'm glad you called on me," he said, his eyes rising to Leia. "I know this is difficult for you."

She took a steadying breath. "I have a question for you," she said. "We've been trying to find a pattern in the deleted data to see if we can find places where she was, so we can track down anyone who might have been there." She turned the screen towards him, showing the data. "Do you recognise this?"

His features flickered, years dropping off him. "Oh, yeah," he said with a wince. "I remember that. I never liked visiting the water planets after that."

Leia felt a rush of elation. "So you were there?"

"With your mother," he confirmed. "We were taken prisoner during the civil war."

Luke reached over to squeeze Leia's hand. "You were right."

Artoo shrilled an inquiry, and they both looked over at him.

"No, there is someone there, Artoo. It's like Dagobah. Remember? I wasn't going crazy there either."

The droid made a sound that was almost a snort.

"I think he disagrees," Leia said with a small smile. She looked back at their father, but he was staring at Artoo. "What is it?"

"What?" Luke turned back to her.

Leia nodded to Anakin.

"Father?" Luke prompted. "What's wrong?"

Anakin tore his eyes from Artoo to stare at them. "Where did you get that droid?"

"Artoo?" Luke frowned. "He claimed he belonged to Ben- I mean Obi-Wan, but-"

"He was my father's," Leia cut over him. 

Anakin looked back at the droid. She could feel his disbelief and wonder. "And he's been with you all the time?"

"He saved us more than once," Luke said, reaching out to pat Artoo's dome. "Didn't you, Artoo?"

The droid whistled happily.

To Leia's surprise, Anakin laughed. "He hasn't changed."

"Wait, what?"

He looked at them both. "Luke, I need you to repeat what I'm going to say, word for word, letter for letter."

Leia and Luke exchanged glances, but he nodded. "Okay."

What followed was a run of complex codes, letters, numbers, languages and words that Leia couldn't keep up with. Luke recited it after Anakin, and Leia could feel his nervous excitement. He didn't know what was going on any more than she did, but there was something happening.

When they both fell silent, it felt like the calm before the storm.

"What now?" Luke asked softly.

Anakin grinned and for a moment, the resemblance between him and Luke struck Leia like a punch below the ribs. "Now, you have access to his full memory banks."

"But we've accessed his memory before," Leia countered. "We had to."

Artoo cheeped, lights flickering on and off all over his surface. He sounded surprised, and started projecting a rapid blur of images in front of them, as if sorting through files he had forgotten were there: figures, ships, battles, buildings, all things they had never seen before.

Leia slid down off the couch to stare at them.

"How did you do that?" Luke demanded. "How did you know?"

Anakin smiled crookedly at them. "We were meant to wipe our droids for security. I didn't want to lose a friend, so I put safeguards in place." He ran his hand over Artoo's dome. “If anyone tried to wipe him, his memories would get locked down.”

"He was... yours?" Leia said in disbelief.

Anakin nodded. His expression sobered. "Ask him to play Agolerga's ceremony."

"Agolerga's ceremony?" Luke echoed.

Even as he said it, the blur of images winked out. At once they were replaced with a recording.

Leia caught her breath, groping out blindly for Luke's hand. He caught it and held it tightly. 

In front of them, a young Anakin Skywalker was exchanging marriage vows with the woman who had to be their mother. She was veiled, but Leia could tell she had the same dark hair and eyes as her mother. She was beautiful, smiling and radiant, and Leia felt hot tears on her cheeks.

Artoo beeped softly.

"Yeah, we know who they are, Artoo," Luke breathed. "They're our parents."

The droid rocked on his base, shrilling.

“He says he has more data you might be interested in,” Anakin said. He was staring down at the hologram, and Leia could feel the grief rippling around her. He sighed, then looked over at them both. “You might find some of the answers you’re looking for.”

Leia wanted to voice her gratitude, but the words escaped her. She could only nod, but she knew Anakin understood. 

As he faded from their sight, she was almost sure she saw him smile.

 

_______________________________________________

 

Leia didn’t know what to expect when they took the time to go through Artoo’s data.

Ever since she had learned about her heritage, she had wondered what kind of woman could have ever fallen in love with someone like Vader. But that was where she had made her first mistake: Vader came later. 

Anakin Skywalker was once a man who loved and was loved by a woman.

Padmé Amidala was a force to be reckoned with. Every piece of data, every holo, every projection confirmed it. 

Leia kept finding Luke grinning at her as they watched the footage, and she didn’t need to ask why. She had been raised as an Organa, but blood was strong, and there was no denying that she inherited a lot from her birth mother. 

Little details that her parents had mentioned started to fit, and the glimpses they were getting of the woman and the stories she had been told started to make sense. Padmé Amidala was the woman who began the rebellion.

Leia couldn’t help wondering what the woman would think, knowing her children were the ones who had brought the war to an end, finishing the job she had begun.

 _She would be so proud of you_.

Anakin’s words kept coming back to her, and for the first time that she could remember, she wondered what it would have been like to know that woman. No one could ever replace her parents, but it harmed no one to wonder if they would have got along.

She would have adored Luke.

Not that it was difficult to like Luke, but there was something similar there, an echo of Padmé Amidala in Luke’s patience and quick, mischievous sense of humour. 

It made the later footage harder to watch: in hindsight, the spreading grip of the Emperor was visible everywhere. Everyone in the footage looked drawn, wearier, on edge. 

General Kenobi was there too. More than once, she found Luke watching the holos where he was present, a wistful look on his face. She wished she could have known the man, but all she could think about was their mother and the man who had become Darth Vader.

Where Luke had the echoes of their mother’s nature, the more she watched the holos, the more she realised she was like Anakin Skywalker. It was a frightening realisation, to know she was capable of the same tactical brilliance and guile, but also the bursts of temper and impatience that flared from time to time.

She could see the man he was, but knowing what he became, knowing what it was possible for a good man to become, was horrifying.

She never said anything to Luke, but these days, she didn’t have to. They could be half a world away from one another, and they could sense each other as if they were in the next room. He didn’t push for answers. He just offered her a shoulder when she needed it.

She hated to admit it, but it was the problem.

He was too even-handed and tolerant, and if she told him what was worrying her, he would be kind about it.

That was why she turned to Han.

Sometimes, a person needed tact and kindness. Other times, they needed Han Solo.

When she invited him for dinner, he swaggered in, grinning like a tomcat. She didn’t bring it up, but before she’d even poured their drinks, Han looked up at her with that familiar, knowing expression on his face.

“So what is it?”

She looked at him, startled. “What?”

One side of his mouth turned up. “You invite me for dinner and you don’t have Threepio hanging around to bring in the food? That means you got something you want to say and you don’t want him making a big deal about it.”

Leia looked down at the bottle in her hands.

Han’s chair scraped on the floor and he stood up, taking the bottle from her. He set it down on the table and took her hands in his. “Sweetheart, if there’s something bothering you, you know I’ll help if I can.”

Her fingers looked so small wrapped over his, and she raised her eyes to his face. “I want to show you something,” she said quietly.

The meal was forgotten and she sat down and showed him several of the holos of Anakin Skywalker in those moments when they were most alike. Han leaned forward on the couch, watching them with fascination.

“Luke dragged you into his Jedi stuff, huh?”

Leia shook her head, watching him. “This is personal.”

He raised his eyebrows, looking at her. “What? Is this guy your crazy cousin? Am I going to meet him?”

Leia looked at the holo that was playing. “He’s my father.”

Han stared at her, then looked back at the holo. “Vader.” He shoved himself back on the couch, as if it could distance himself from the image. “You’re telling me that’s Vader?”

She nodded. “Before-” She cut herself off. Han didn’t need to be told what happened to the man. She curled her hands into fists in her lap. “He was a good man, and he still-”

“He still turned into that.” Han leaned over and covered her hands with his. “Sweetheart, if you’re wondering if you’ll go down that road, believe me, it’s impossible.”

She met his eyes. “You can’t know that. He and I… we’re not that different.”

Han snorted. “Well, you’re not the same either,” he pointed out. He slid closer to her, lifting one hand to cup her cheek. “Sure, you might have things in common, but that doesn’t make you him anymore than it makes him you.” He kissed her gently. “See. I would never have done that to him.”

“I’m serious, Han.”

“Me too.” The crooked smile faded. “I’ve known you a few years now, Princess, and every step of the way you’ve been fighting. You know what you’re fighting for, why, everything you need to know. You know who you are. And you’re too damned stubborn to go to… the dark side or whatever it is.”

She almost smiled. “So that’s your argument? That I’m too stubborn?”

His mouth curled up again. “And too smart.” He kissed her again. “That might be where you came from, but it’s not where you’re going.”

She reached up to tug him closer by his shirt. “And where am I going?”

His face was close to hers and his eyes were dancing. “I don’t know, but I think we’re gonna enjoy the ride.”

Leia smiled. “You’re still a scoundrel.”

He laughed. “And you still love it.”

“I know.”

 

___________________________________________

 

Coruscant was glittering in the morning light.

Leia raised her hand to shield her eyes from the reflected light as she angled the speeder up towards the higher levels. Some part of her wished that she’d brought Luke, but she wanted to know that she was right before letting him know what she’d found.

A long time ago, she had visited the building.

Her first visit to Coruscant, if she recalled correctly.

She could barely have been more than four years old, and she and her parents were there on the formal invitation of the Emperor. She couldn’t remember much of the visit, but she knew her father was unhappy about it. 

They had been assigned an apartment in the building. Something about it made her father go quiet. Her mother explained quietly that once, long ago, many of his friends had lived in these very buildings. 

She hadn’t paid much attention then, too young to notice much, but she remembered the pattern on the floor and skipping from section to section, pretending that if she stepped on the pale parts, she would fall in the water.

The building was all but abandoned now, despite its position and scale.

Once, she had wondered why it was left to fall into disrepair when it was a home for so many distinguished people, but as she grew older, she recognised the million small ways that the Emperor diminished the respect and authority due to members of the Senate. Their standing was slowly eroded like the buildings.

It was considered unlucky by the superstitious, a place where misfortune followed anyone who risked living there. 

She broke through a layer of morning mist and Leia caught her breath as she saw the building. Almost twenty years on, and her memory held true: she remembered a balcony, and her father calling her back from it. She remembered pointing at a construction project on the horizon, commenting on how big it was. Her father hadn’t said anything, but somehow, she’d known he was sad about it.

She had almost forgotten the balcony until one particular holo brought it all back to her.

The speeder groaned to a halt beside the balcony, and she switched the anchoring lock into place. Her hands shook on the edge of the speeder as she vaulted out onto the balcony. It was thick with grime, clearly neglected for years. The tall doors were wedged open. Some of the wild birds of the upper levels had made it their nest. The place stank and the beautifully-tiled floor was almost lost under layer of waste.

She scraped some of it aside with her boot, and her heart pounded. 

It was exactly as she remembered, and it was exactly as she had seen it in the holo.

This was once where her birth parents had conducted their secret relationship. If the world had been different, it could have been another father calling her in from the balcony. 

Her eyes burned and she had to retreat back onto the balcony into the cool, crisp morning air. She gulped in lungfuls, wishing she could convince herself that it was just the stink of the rotting waste that was burning in her nose and throat. The railing was cold under her hands and she raised her eyes to the sky, blinking hard.

She didn’t know why she reached out to him, then. Maybe it was just the need to have someone there, even him.

“Leia,” he said, quietly.

“This was it, wasn’t it?” She didn’t dare look at him. Her cheeks were wet and she had never broken before him when he was Vader, and she was damned if she would let him see her break now. “This was your home.”

“As close to a home as I could get.” He was silent for a moment. “Jedi were forbidden from forming attachments. From marrying.”

She turned to look at him, searching his face. “Why didn’t you leave?” 

He stared out across the cityscape. “It was who I was. When I was a child, I was a slave. The Jedi saved me from that. They took me in. Trained me. Gave me everything.” He shook his head. “I… couldn’t just walk away. I belonged to- with them.”

Ownership, she thought numbly. Obligation. Sacrificing the chance to be with the woman he loved, because he felt he had no choice.

“What changed?” 

He laid his hands on the rail. “I put my faith in the wrong person. I made bad decisions. I thought- I wanted to protect what was mine.” His features were tense. “I killed and I hurt her, and then all I thought I was fighting for was gone and I… stopped caring.” He laughed, a tight, brief, brittle sound. “No attachments. No ties. Only regret and anger and hate for him and what I had let him do to me.”

She looked back out over the city. “You became Vader.”

“It was all I had left: my master and his wishes.”

Leia looked down at his hands on the railing. One was gloved, black and armoured. The other was bare. The two sides of the same person: Anakin Skywalker and Darth Vader. 

She knew she may never be able to forgive him for everything he had done. There were too many memories. The rebellion had lost so many people and he was the right hand of the man who caused it all. People had suffered in agony at his hands. Luke. Han. Chewie. They had all been hurt by him. She had too. 

It wasn’t the time for forgiveness, but with all she had seen and learned of him, she knew that Luke was right.

Despite it all, there was - and always had been - good in the man standing at her side, even if it had been taken and corrupted and twisted up almost beyond recognition. His intentions had been good when it all began, and little by little, his assurance and faith was stripped away from him.

The Emperor knew how to get exactly what he wanted.

Leia moved her hand a little closer to Anakin’s on the rail, not quite touching.

“I understand,” she said quietly, looking up at him.

His smile was a fragile thing. “Thank you.”


End file.
